Rush
by painted.inkblot
Summary: The Blacks of that generation all rushed their whole lives. It took too late for them to realize rushing doesn't always save you. Oneshot.


A/N: I've been trying to write something about Regulus, so when I finally got an idea which extended to all the Blacks of his

**A/N: I've been trying to write something about Regulus, so when I finally got an idea which extended to all the Blacks of his generation, I decided to settle for that instead after two Regulus oneshots which I didn't like. So here you go.**

**Disclaimer: Seeing as I'm not a billionaire, that kind tells that I'm not JK Rowling.**

**Rush**

No one knows how it happened, how they all rushed all the time; maybe because it was the general feeling of that time, with the war and the killings and _oh no You-Know-Who_ and being in a dark family with the pressured support _continue being pure you're better mudbloods are filthy little insects and you can walk all over them because you're purebloods and Blacks and no one's nobler than you_– Maybe the rush in how all the basics of their life were ground into their head starting at the age of two, throbbing into them fiercely and piercing and getting punished if they so much as look the wrong way at a mudblood– Whatever reason, Andromeda Tonks, Narcissa Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius Black, and Regulus Black rushed from the moment they could think.

Bellatrix is the oldest of the cousins – she rushes about getting them to listen to her, though soon it doesn't need rushing, and she rushes about reading heavy tomes and books and learning dark spells which she is sure she will need in life, and rushes about practicing the Cruciatus on the insects she finds crawling on the walls – and she rushes about finding out about You-Know-Who (_such cowards, he is the Dark Lord and they should all call him by that proper name)_ and also practicing _Imperio_ and _Avada Kedavra_ on the insects as well so at least she will have some practice – she rushes about cursing and scorning the mudbloods and acting like a good pureblood at the family parties so she'll have connections for the future – she rushes about performing tasks for her lord _so powerful and cunning he will surely rule the world_ and enjoying them too because she is cleansing the earth and she knows it – she rushes about wildly not caring who she kills as long as it's a mudblood or a muggle and they deserve it anyway; who cares if they're a small child or an old man – and she rushes about in battle, sneaking with her curses so the opponent doesn't notice them until they're dead or injured, and mocks and babies them so they lash out too quickly, too easily and she deflects them and adds yet another victory to her belt, because Bellatrix Lestrange is a _survivor_–

Rushing doesn't help Bellatrix when Molly Weasley, practically matriarch of all blood-traitors, of all people, hits her with a curse in the stomach that kills her when she tries to get her little daughter.

Andromeda is second oldest, two years younger than Bella – she rushes about trying to convince herself _yes_, she is better than "mudbloods," and _no,_ they are not equal, and she rushes about trying to convince everyone else – Bella and Mother and Father and Aunt Walburga and Uncle Orion and the rest – that she thinks the same as them and that she'll be a good pureblood who'll make her family proud, feeling fake and terrible underneath – then in Hogwarts she rushes about trying to convince her Slytherin housemates the same while desperately wishing she could rush about doing the opposite, and rushes about trying not to be too kind but not too nice either to the mudbloods because Bella is watching, watching her all the time – and she rushes about trying to blend in so her family won't question, won't question if Hogwarts and all its common students are making her question her beliefs and become a blood traitor, so they can almost forget about her – and she rushes about trying to make it seem as if she doesn't _care_ about the now rebellious Sirius's thoughts and that she wishes she was brave enough to be openly opinionated like him, instead of carefully weaving layers and layers over her true opinions – she rushes about trying to forget about that muggleborn Hufflepuff Ted Tonks, because he's a mudblood and a _Hufflepuff_ and_ oh who cares_ because she's a Black, and she rushes about trying to escape his yearning, honest face so she won't feel sparks of guiltiness, and she rushes about trying to keep her secret from her family later on that _oh no she's dating a mudblood_ – she rushes about when Narcissa (_how could Cissa, dear Cissy do it?)_ spills, rushing to get far, far away and safe from her maniacal relatives – she rushes and bustles around trying to get her mind off the Second War and that Dora and her werewolf husband are in it, and Dora's pregnant, and _they might die_ – and she rushes around in the kitchen banging pots and pans trying to forget that Ted was killed, killed for being a mudblood, and that the risk and rebellion and love of her early days was _all for nothing_ _(she might as well have married Rabastan Lestrange like her parents intended instead)_ – she rushes around cooing and singing lullabies to her orphaned grandson, Teddy, pretending that Remus and Dora are just on a honeymoon and she and the godfather are looking after him, feeling miserable because she survived and she might as well died except for Teddy–

Rushing doesn't help Andromeda when Ted and Dora and Remus all die and she's left to scavenge the ruins with Teddy in tow and Harry attempting to help.

Then comes Narcissa, another two years younger than Andromeda – she rushes about learning how to be a proper and pretty little pureblood, how to make use of her blonde hair and pale face and blue eyes, so she'll end up with a good lot in life as her parents wanted – she rushes about obeying domineering Bella even at a young age, she rushes as Bella decrees what they will do, what they will say, how they will appear because Bella just sucks all the attention to her fiery personality and she just _has _to have her orders followed – she rushes about ignoring the mudbloods as both Bella and her parents said, and their word is _law_ – she rushes about doting on Lucius Malfoy because her parents say that is who she will have to marry, and Narcissa doesn't really have any complaints about that – she rushes about making an example to all the other rich purebloods to show _she _is the best for _she_ is a Black (_toujours pur) _and they should follow her orders like so many follow Bella, even though she's terrible at it, unlike Bella – she rushes about trying to find out _what is Andy up to_, because she knows it's something and it must not be something for a Black to do – she rushes about protecting Lucius's reputation after the First War because that is what a good and clever Black wife does for someone who was just doing the right thing, getting rid of the mudbloods and muggles – she rushes about with a new person to protect, dear Draco, and he is the Malfoy heir, their only one and he must get the _absolute best in life_, even though Lucius and Bella tended to disagree about her pampering, but still she rushes about teaching Draco on her knee like Mother and Father did to her so long ago – she rushes about in the Second War, protecting Draco and Lucius for real this time because now there is something to protect them from, and she'll do it at any cost, even if it means sparing Harry Potter or not always participating fully in the battles, because she just needs to_ protect_–

Rushing around does not protect Narcissa when all she has lived for and worked for as a Black comes tumbling down around her ankles as Harry Potter rises up from the ashes to win.

Five years younger is Sirius – he rushes about trying to get away from Regulus, who follows him _too damn much_ and he doesn't care if it's out of admiration – he rushes about trying to dominate along with Bella for he is _Sirius the Great_, a Black and he will do great things, no matter what, and he rushes about learning to do what he wants because when you're The Great you can do anything, even if your parents like your irritating little brother better – he rushes about learning how to get the ones he doesn't like back, discovers Zonko's and hexes and pranks and charms twisted to suit his purposes – he rushes about trying to put Regulus in his shadow, rushing about trying to become plain _better_, in everything from spell-casting to intelligence to flying, and he rushes about trying to act like he doesn't care, like he can't be penetrated, like he's the best (_and he will be, so it's not like he's doing anything wrong with that)_ – he rushes about trying to ignore what's being drummed into him and his relatives, because he's Sirius the Great and great people like him can't be told what to do, so he can damn well say hello to a mudblood if he wants to, _so there_ – he rushes about because _ohMerlinhe'saGryffindor_ and he's doing everything _wrong (but so right)_ and he rushes about making friends with a Potter and pranking awful Snivellus and ignoring Narcissa's burning stares (_and Bella's from wherever she is, because she graduated already)_ – he rushes about trying not to go insane from everything he's heaping upon himself and all the mounting hate and pressure that he knows is getting piled upon him along with everything else – he rushes about trying to trust and to savor and to make the most of what he's got left with Moony, Wormtail, and Prongs and be an animagus and pull pranks and live it up because it's all he's got – he rushes about losing his trust and trying to find it again and hoping for his lives and everyone else's and then _Harry's born_, and he rushes about hoping Wormtail will be a good Secret-Keeper like he thinks – he rushes about not believing _Wormtail was a traitor_ and he _needs revenge ohsweet revenge_ for killing Lily and James and dooming him _because ohMerlin no one knows they switched_ – he rushes about with his wand held high in the air laughing like a maniac, laughing the Black laugh which he swore he would never laugh – he rushes about acting like he's still in the real world in Azkaban, just with a few hard walls in the way of some things, but it's still okay _right_ – he rushes about trying to escape, to stay safe, but he still finds himself not dodging a curse while trying to rescue Harry and the prophecy from _Bellatrix, of course_ and he thought he was a survivor – insane, but a survivor – but he falls–

Rushing doesn't help Sirius when he finds himself falling to his death in a Veil because of his godson and his very own cousin.

And last of their generation is the little king Regulus – he rushes about like a puppy dog following Sirius who he admires so much, and he rushes about trying to be _just like him_ because he is Sirius the Great, just like he says, and so Regulus wants to be Regulus the Great _just like him, _even though Sirius doesn't appreciate it all the time – he rushes about swallowing everything about blood purity his family feeds him, and is proud of himself for saying _toujours pur _after _hello_ to the visitors when he is a mere toddler, because his aunts and uncles and parents are proud too, and he just wants to be a _good boy_ and please them – he rushes about like a little lap dog performing tricks so he can make his parents proud and pleased and call him a _good boy_, even though it makes Sirius turn all red and surly – he rushes about reading all the books Bella and his parents tell him to, even though _Nature's Nobility _is a bit too thick and more than a bit boring, but he rushes about anyway reading all the essays and articles about filth and mudbloods and muggles and purity, and though some of the enjoyment is forced, a little of it is true and coexists along with the spark inside his chest that can't bear it at all _(he always ignores that spark because it isn't right, he knows his parents would say so, though he's not sure what Sirius would say) _and he rushes about draping the walls of his room in green and silver even though he isn't quite sure that he'll be in Slytherin yet _(Bella assures him he will and Regulus knows Bella is always right because she's Bella)_ and he rushes about being called a good boy and reveling in it all like a dog that is enjoying its belly being rubbed – he rushes about trying not to admire Sirius anymore because _Sirius is a Gryffindor and Gryffindors are bad blood traitors_ and he rushes about telling himself there will be no Sirius the Great, only a Regulus the Great because he is the good boy and Sirius is the bad one, plus he read the good books and he didn't rebel, he just sat and followed orders and was a Black – he rushes about with a smirk on his face for he is a _Slytherin thank Merlin_ and truly better and he will be the best and succeed and be a _Black_ like Bella and Dromeda and Cissa _but not like Sirius_ – he rushes about hearing about this Dark Lord and he can't help being fascinated and running around attempting to find out more from people like Lucius Malfoy and Evan Rosier – he rushes about thinking _this is what Mother and Father raised us for, shouldn't I do it? _and ponders and mulls it over – he rushes about trying to wear off the pain of a Dark Mark in his arm and now he is a true follower and he probably won't ever be Regulus the Great – he rushes about _for the Dark Lord hurt Kreacher_ and he did _something horrible so he must help Kreacher_ – he rushes about as he is in the cave as he knows he did wrong, he failed the Dark Lord but _wouldn't Sirius-the-Traitor be proud of him now_ and he regrets that all he ever did was be a filthy little follower–

Rushing doesn't help Regulus when he is pulled under the waves by Inferi for rebelling a little too late.

All the Blacks rushed, and they left too early too realize too late what they had left behind.

**A/N: Weak ending, in my opinion, but oh well. Constructive criticism appreciated.**


End file.
